


Early Morning Hours

by endofmeandeverything



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), London Spy
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofmeandeverything/pseuds/endofmeandeverything
Summary: Q isn't so complicated after all.





	Early Morning Hours

Silence is relative, Danny supposes. To him, silence is the pitter-patter of rain on the window, the thrum of a passing train, the buzz of his mobile at three a.m. while he stares at a blank page. Silence is London in the wee hours, and this is where Danny lives. He breathes chilly sodden air to make himself happy.

Tonight he adds the sound of a light snore from the bedroom, the delicate click of passing seconds marked by the clock on the wall and the hum from the server room. (In a normal flat, it would be a second bedroom, but nothing about this is normal and Q needs his machines).

The knowledge that there’s a place in bed for him makes Danny smile. He imagines laying on Alex’s chest and James breathing into his hair.

Danny is a master of incorporating new details into his life but tonight he nestles into the sofa and savors the sound of a rainstorm, savors the sound of lead against paper. London at night: he loves it.

He’s only got a mechanical pencil, but lack of resources has never stopped him before.

Over the light rain thrumming against the window, Danny can hear James’ low snore, Q’s snuffle, and the movement of sheets that means Alex is asleep.

Danny tries to emulate the sweeping line of Q’s jaw, makes a mess of it, scribbles over it, and sighs. Things escape him sometimes. He draws moments, not pictures. It’s why he refused when James offered to pay tuition for classes.

James also insists he should buy proper drawing paper. For now, Danny’s happy with the pads from the corner shop. When he’s good enough, he’ll ask someone for proper paper. (He can’t afford it himself and he suspects he’ll have to present a portfolio to prove that he deserves that paper when the time comes). Honestly, he’ll never ask anyone for proper paper.

“That’s quite good.”

Danny gasps, clutching his notepad to his chest. The comment’s hardly more than a whisper. “You startled me!” he breathes,

“So sorry.” Q stumbles, as he does, around the end of the sofa and seats himself far enough away that Danny can relax a bit. 

Danny can’t much relax around Q because Q is a blank slate. Danny’s learned to read Alex, and James doesn’t bother hiding a thing. But Q makes Danny nervous.

“It is, though. Lovely.” Q’s nose wrinkles when he takes a long draw of tea. “Cold,” he pronounces. He drinks it anyhow.

“Er. Thanks.” Danny doesn’t have the confidence to let Q see everything. He can feel his fingers going tighter around the edges of the notebook.

It isn’t that he and Q don’t get along. They get along just fine. It’s that Q’s never really given him the time of day and Danny assumes that he’s too...lowly. He always feels lowly, but James and Alex comfort him continually. Mostly, Q ignores him.

Tonight, Q sets his mug down on the coffee table and reaches out. “May I?”

“Uh.”

The smile Q angles at him is unfamiliar. It’s open. Sleepy. “You don’t have to. I of all people understand protecting what you’ve made until it’s as good as it will be. But I never knew you were an artist.”

“I’m not.”

“No?” Q doesn’t do anything so obvious as tip his head or grin. But his voice spells out his disbelief. “May I?” he asks again.

Danny feels a little sick, handing over his pad.

Q doesn’t flip through things. He turns each page slowly, careful not to smudge anything. Occasionally he traces a finger just over the page, as though following the flow of Danny’s lines.

When Danny realizes that Q’s examining his own damned profile (eyes absent, because Danny could never capture them properly), his face goes hot. Instinctively, he reaches out for the notebook and his mouth opens to spew apologies. “Really,” he spurts. “You’re lovely, so I only wanted....”

“You see things,” Q says. It’s not matter-of-fact, it’s awe. His fingers hover. “Goodness, Danny.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Danny expels on a breath. 

It isn’t that he likes or dislikes Q. But he’s got a really desperate need for Q to know that he isn’t worthless and this little bit of genuine admiration is making him feel a little sick. “I’ve never gone to school, it’s not like….”

Q lays the notebook carefully between them, closing it and pressing his fingertips against the cover as if to assure its safety. “Neither did I.”

“What?” Danny tries to swallow his sick.

“I never went to school. I found myself...rather in trouble. And MI6 decided I was worth more in Vauxhall than in prison.” Q’s posture has gone quite stiff. Danny’s used to Q’s self-assurance, but this is fearful. He fights the urge to rest of hand over the Q’s clenched fist. He doesn’t resist for long. Q is warm.

“Really?” Danny licks at his bottom lip. He wants to kiss Q’s knuckles.

“Oh, yes.” Q leans forward and touches the back of Danny’s hand. “Would you like to go to school, Danny?”

Danny shrugs. It’s not a question he’s ever asked for himself. “It’s not ever been in the cards for me.”

Q deepens the touch, wrapping his fingers around Danny’s wrist. His fingers are far warmer than Danny imagined. “I rather think your cards have been shuffled. You’ll find I’m an efficient dealer.”

Danny smiles. Manages to press his fingertips against Q’s knuckles. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Truthfully, you terrify me.”

Danny stills, but Q doesn’t loosen or tighten his grip. “I am sorry. Truly. It’s just that you’re everything I wish I could be.” 

Danny just laughs. “But you’re perfect!”

Q sighs. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” He smiles. “You’re so clever. I couldn’t possibly compete.”

“You’re ridiculous. Kiss me.”


End file.
